FF 103: Clearly Misunderstood
by liaSonlovR
Summary: LIASON. Read and Review!


Hey everyone! Well, it's about 11:06 here in LA, and I'm sitting here in my bed with my laptop writing a FF. LOL. I really should be writing my Science Research Paper (Damn 8th grade!), but what the hey, I haven't written in a while, so I just went to the Canvas FF archives. (That made everything so much easier.) So anyway, I picked a few prompts that looked interesting and narrowed it down to this one. But maybe I'll write a few other ones with the other prompts that came close.

Things to know: This is kinda AU. Jason works at the warehouse, Sonny's enforcer, etc…, and Elizabeth is a student at a University with an Art Major. This story takes place in LA (close to Beverly Hills). Also, for those who don't know, Rodeo Drive is a place to SHOP at, and is where many celebrities shop. That being said, that shows that it's a pretty expensive place. ;)

Also, I would like to add that I had this idea in my mind, and this prompt went perfectly with it.

Well, enough of my rambling. I'm dedicating this one to my sister, because she's just getting her driver's permit, so hopefully she'll give me a few rides. shrugs Alright, I'll shut up now.

Please leave some feedback! As stupid and pathetic as it may sound, good (and, as weird as it is, bad) comments are music to my ears. I'm just glad that you guys even read my stuff. LOL.

Ok, ok.

Read. :D

FF #103: Clearly Misunderstood

Prompt: Blank Check

Professor Whitfield checked his watch and nodded to his students. "All right, class is just about over, but wait," he motioned with his hands to the students to take their seats, clearly still having something to say. "Don't forget that tomorrow we will be closing our accounts that we opened, so even though I advised you to not do anything with it outside of class, if you have deposited something in there, please be sure to remember to take it out."

He rolled his eyes at his students. They were all on the edge of their seats and were looking at the clock up on the boring gray wall of Room 207, anxiously wanting to get out of that class as soon as possible.

Elizabeth Webber, a PCU student majoring in Art, sighed and closed her notebook. Thank God this class was almost over. She had been struggling with her Finance class ever since her so called friend had signed her up for it. All she had wanted to do was to study art. Every other subject was totally pointless and worthless to her, and here she was, spending more time trying to catch up with her other classes than focusing on the most important one.

She stood up and slung her bag over her small shoulder, but picking up her books to carry in her arms. Her back had hurt from the amount of books that she had stowed away in her bag, and so she resorted to actually carrying them. Walking 4 blocks and then riding the bus didn't help much either.

She sprinted out of the room, and took the stairs two at a time. Professor Whitfield had gone 10 minutes over classtime, and Elizabeth doubted she would make the bus in time.

Two more blocks.

Her arms feeling like lead, Elizabeth lugged the books and tried to keep them secure in her arms while she ran like a mad man. Losing or damaging one of her books would cause a strain on the amount of money she had – or lack there of – and so obviously, she couldn't afford to pay to replace a textbook. Those damn books were expensive.

One more block.

Up ahead, she saw the bus pulling to a slow stop, and the doors creaked open, allowing the ones who were waiting on the bench to get on.

Her lungs were burning so hard, Elizabeth thought she'd develop asthma. She was slowing down, and she knew it. And by the time she got to the bench, the bus had pulled away, driving off in the direction where Elizabeth lived.

She dropped her books on the bench and covered her face with her nimble hands as she furiously groaned.

"Great! Just freakin' great! Now I just have to walk a mile or two and then I'd be home sweet home," she muttered, throwing herself down on the old bench.

Now she had to think about which direction she'd have to take to go home. The "dirty" and "dangerous" one, or the one through Rodeo Drive, the complete opposite. When she took the bus, it went in the direction that was uncomfortable to walk in, but Elizabeth found comfort in the big, old smelly bus and the people in it. At least she wouldn't go out alone.

The real obvious direction that everyone else would take would be the Rodeo Drive one, right? Well, to Elizabeth, it was the worst. Sure, it was clean. Sure, it was safe with the highest amount of security with the high-priced stores, but just walking past those extravagant shops was enough to make her want to go blind. Just like any other college student, she was on a tight budget – if you could call a meager savings one – and looking at something that she knew for a fact that she could NEVER afford was enough for Elizabeth to risk herself in going the other way.

But as she looked down the street towards Rodeo Drive, she couldn't help but actually i want /i to go down. Dressed in a black skirt that went down to mid-thigh and a light pink tank top, she didn't really look like a fashionable, yet classy person who would actually dare to walk down Rodeo Drive and much less to shop there.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at herself for that thought and just tipped her chin up and starting walking. "Screw it," she said.

She started walking towards Rodeo Drive, and before she knew it, she was right in the middle of it. People with cappacinos in their hands were quickly walking across the street, carrying their multiple shopping bags, a Louis Vouittan purse, and a high-tech custom designed cell phone in their hand. In Beverly Hills, cell phones were practically glued to their ears, from a 7 year old all the way up to a 65 year old grandmother.

The wind picked up speed, and Elizabeth found herself doing the exact opposite. She would look through the thick glass of Tiffany's and be blinded with the amount of jewelry they had. She would find herself fantasizing draped in jewels like those displayed, only to be shaken out of it when she would find a slight fog on the newly-Windexed window.

She strolled down nonchalantly, admiring the designer clothes displayed on the manicans, but finding herself scowling at the prices. They were ridiculous. But even though she was scornful, she still found herself stubbornly wanting to one day owning at least a dress like those.

She felt something slap against her thin ankle. She frowned and looked down, surprised. The roads and sidewalks in Beverly Hills were spotless, and finding a piece of paper on the ground was pretty rare.

She bent down curiously to pick up the evidently small piece of paper. It had footmarks all over it, and was a little crumpled, but was in the best shape a piece of paper in the street could be.

She looked down closely at the piece of paper, and as she figured out what it was, her heart began to race and a slight blush of excitement was draped across her porcelain cheeks.

Her breath hitched in her throat, a smirk played across her lips, and a devilish glint appeared in her cerulean eyes.

"Well, well, well," she drawled. "Looks like it's my lucky day."

She looked again at the check and grinned like a cat who had just swallowed a mouse. The check wasn't exactly blank, but it wasn't completely filled either. It was however, signed. To who or how much the check was written, she didn't know, because those areas were blank, as well as the date…

"My finance class might be of use after all…" Elizabeth murmured, her index finger playing across the front of the check.

When she read the name of who had signed the check, she frowned. Jason Morgan? -Didn't he co-own a coffee company, as well as being the enforcer for the infamous Sonny Corinthos? Wow, she didn't want to be fooling – or trying to fool- one of the most powerful, not to mention richest, people on the West Coast.

She sighed. But her account that was created for her Finance class didn't even have her real name, and since it was going to be closed tomorrow anyway, there really is no way that they can trace her name, and actually find her. But would she really need the account to cash the check? She wasn't sure, but she decided that she would deposit some of the money, (so it wouldn't look suspicious), and then cash the rest. That meant that when she filled out the rest of the check, the amount couldn't be that much.

She took out a black pen from her bag and let it hover over the line. Once she wrote it, there was no turning back. $1,000? $2,000? $5,000? She grinned. $5,000 it was, as she hastily scribbled across the line. She then continued to fill out the rest of the information that was left blank on the check, and when she was done, all her doubts completely vanished.

This i was /i her lucky day. There was no way her plan could have a hitch. No possible way.

She smiled broadly and gave the godly check a quick kiss. She then went to the nearest bank, innocently cashed the check, and then proceeded to the nearest store, and made sure she purchased things as i expensive /i as they got.

After all, she had just received a blank check.

Later that day in her studio

Whoever that had invented the phrase "Shop 'til you Drop" really did mean it. Elizabeth hauled her ten or so bags and dropped them on the floor and groaned, draping herself over her dingy couch/bed. Never in a million years did Elizabeth ever imagine walking out of i Christian Dior /i with a $1,000 dress neatly secluded in a bag. Damn, she thought, as her tired eyes found the bag resting against her knee, even the i bag /i looked expensive.

And as she let her eyes wander over her other purchases, she found the guilt in her growing by the second.

What she did was what a thief did.

And just like walking out of Christian Dior with a $1,000 dress, Elizabeth also never imagined herself filling out a blank check and spending all the money.

She groaned again, but this time wasn't because of her weariness. This groan was a "I'm in deep shit" groan. And it was a custom groan that she didn't like to use often.

But it was ridiculously necessary for this situation.

i What the hell have I gotten myself into? /i she thought, banging her head against the worn couch.

Knowing what she had to, Elizabeth resolutely stood up and grabbed her keys, still dressed in her black skirt and pink top. It was her favorite outfit that showed off all her womanly curves in just the right way.

Elizabeth shook her head of her stupid assessment of herself and walked toward the front door.

She hated knowing where the Morgan/Corinthos warehouse was.

At the Warehouse

"Come on Jason. Don't tell me you haven't found a date yet. I told you about the party three weeks ago. You had i plenty /i of time to find a date. And what do you do? You just bury yourself in your work even more, if that's even possible."

Jason rolled his eyes at his partner in crime – at times, literally – and shook his head.

"You know Sonny, a person i could /i have a good time without having to haul a date with them the whole night."

"Not if you plan on having an after part," Sonny replied with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Jason chuckled and was about to respond when he heard a faint knock at the door. He stood up from behind his desk and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Come in," he called gruffly.

A petite brunette with the eyes of an innocent angel walked in. She sauntered over to a chair in front of his desk, but he could tell that she was obviously nervous. About what, he didn't know.

The awkward silence in the room was broken when Elizabeth spoke.

"I – I have a confession." Oh my God. Was that actually her voice?

Jason looked questioningly at her. When he was going to ask her what she was talking about, she quickly continued.

"I was walking home from class because I had missed the bus because my stupid, i stupid /i professor had dismissed us late, so I walked home down Rodeo Drive, and as I was walking I found a blank check – well, it wasn't really blank – but anyway, I filled it out and cashed it and spent all of the money," she explained in a breath taken fully, and looked at Jason whose expression was unreadable.

Slowly he spoke. "And I'm guessing that was i my /i blank check?"

Elizabeth nodded her head, and a guilty smile played on her lips. "Guilty as charged," she muttered.

She stood up and wiped her sweaty palms on her black skirt, making it ride up. Jason's eyes were quickly drawn to the exposed toned thighs. That move of attraction didn't go unnoticed by Sonny who was watching the experienced exchange from the corner of the room.

Jason quickly lifted his eyes when she spoke.

"I-I promise to return all of the items and as soon as I get all of the money back I'll give it all back to you. I just – I just did what I did without really thinking things over, and you have no idea how tempting it was and – "

"Actually," Sonny said, interrupting Elizabeth. "Why don't you keep those things."

He lifted a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth to argue. "But you see, Jason needs a favor tonight, so you get to keep the clothes, and Jason'll have a date tonight for the opening of The Cellar."

He looked over at Jason, who was clearly thinking about it, even though it didn't look like it.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then not really knowing what to say, closed it. A date with Jason Morgan? She gave him a good look over and nodded to herself. Oh, yeah. Totally not bad.

"I take that as a yes?"

Elizabeth looked up at Sonny and – after a minute – nodded. "Yes, that – that'll be fine. Thank you. I really do appreciate you not really alerting the police – "

Jason snorted and muttered under his breath, "Yeah, like they'd actually do something in favor of us."

"Excuse me?"

Jason looked up to Elizabeth and said, "What – what's your name?"

"Elizabeth Webber," she replied softly.

"Right well, Elizabeth, meet me inside Kelly's at eight and then we'll just go down to The Cellar."

She nodded and clasped her hands together. "Kelly's, eight, got it."

She. Looked. Gorgeous.

Jason found himself literally drooling over the woman whose thin and delicate arm was in the crook of his toned one. She was beautiful. Pure beauty.

With a dress that went perfectly with her sparkling eyes, Elizabeth was the woman whom the men – married and single – couldn't help but glance over at every few minutes.

"Ah, and who is this fine young lady?" An old man who appeared to be in his early sixties asked Jason and smiled politely to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stretched her arm out and shook the old man's hand. "Elizabeth. Elizabeth Webber."

"Well don't you two look fabulous together – ah, wait, let me get some champagne."

He grabbed the drink from a tray a waiter was carrying and tapped a spoon against it.

And a hush fell over the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman, I'd like to make a toast." Elizabeth gave Jason a confused look, and he just shrugged bewilderedly.

"Everyone, we now know what my friend here, Mr. Jason Morgan, has been doing at the warehouse working those i late /i hours," he winked back at them.

He raised his glass.

"To Jason and Elizabeth, and of course… their wedding."

Hmmm… I didn't seem to end this the way I wanted it. I swear it sounded better in my head! And since my one hour's up, I didn't edit this. Yikes. This was dumb. I'll be making up for it though. I promise! But 'til then, feedback please.


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